


Dissonance

by LyraMaeArcher



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, F/M, mlsecretsanta2k19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21819349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyraMaeArcher/pseuds/LyraMaeArcher
Summary: When Adrien dies, Luka is there to pick up the pieces. A Not Fluffy At All Angsty Secret Santa gift for my friend CaptainMalcolmReyolds.
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 10
Kudos: 40





	Dissonance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MalcolmReynolds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalcolmReynolds/gifts).



> It’s mlsecretsanta2019 time!!
> 
> Imagine my surprise when, out of the apparent 200 participants, the person I was given was my bestest ML writing buddy - @MalcomReynolds! <3 Squee! Man, it’s hard to keep a secret like this when you so spend so much time talking about writing together! :) 
> 
> Knowing that MR likes Lukanette and that we have jokingly given her the title “Mistress of Death” in our chat group, I went to work.
> 
> WARNING: THIS STORY INVOLVES A MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH AND ISN’T A NICE, FLUFFY CHRISTMAS STORY.... (sorry). 
> 
> Once I finished my story, I connected with @chimpukampu on Tumblr because I know that MR really was secretly hoping for artwork. I got more than I hoped for because the art is AMAZING!! 
> 
> Anyway, here is your story, MR. Merry Christmas! <3

This time, Hawkmoth’s plan had been perfect. Too perfect. The traps set had gone flawlessly - the ring torn off Chat’s finger only moments before her earrings were ripped from her ears, leaving them both staring in wide eyed panic at each other as a newly revealed Adrien Agreste fell from the rooftop, helpless and screaming. 

She would have jumped without thought if Viperion hadn’t stopped her in time, scooping her up to carry her safely to the ground - the revelation of her identity as Marinette clicking into place with shocking clarity.

A frantic click of the switch, the hope of a second chance, the desperate attempt to reset this moment .. all for naught. He was too late. Too late to save him. To save her. Too late. The laughter of the demon named Hawkmoth would never leave his skull.

He sank to his knees, the weight of his failure more than he could take as he listened to her dissonant screams to try again, watched her collapse to the ground to clutch her partner in wailing agony, tears streaking through the blood stained on her face. 

“Adrien, stay with me. Please Kitty, please.” He knew her begging was pointless. Tearing his eyes from the horror before him, he searched the rest of the team. Hollow eyes stared, hands trembling over mouths, a cacophony of sobs echoing off the walls. They all knew.

His movements were disjointed when he forced himself to his feet, dragging himself to her side, prying her fingers off the body of the boy they had all called a friend. She fought him, unseeing, claws she didn’t have tearing at his face, her small fists pummeling his chest, legs thrashing in wild movements, trying to get free, trying to get back to Adrien’s side. The keening screech made him cringe, the words of anger at his actions tore against his heart.

He held her face away from where emergency crews attempted to save her partner. But, they knew it too. It was too late. 

When her struggling gave way to retching, he held her. When she had nothing left, he held her. When she sobbed uncontrollably, he held her. He held her when shock hit, leaving her shivering and incoherent. He held her long after his suit had vanished and medical personnel insisted they take her to the hospital, refusing to let her go long enough for them to lay her on a stretcher - choosing instead to cradle her in his arms on the trip. When he couldn’t hold her, he held her hand in silence. 

He wouldn’t leave her, even when her broken voice gave him permission, even when he could see her retreating into herself, even when her parents said they could take care of her. He didn’t want her to be alone. Didn’t want her to blame herself, do anything rash, jump off that ledge without him there to save her. She said nothing, locked away within herself, her fingers running against her empty earlobes.

He claimed the lounge in her room as his new home. He set aside his guitar into the corner, fingers unable to play the pain that he saw in her, the guilt that ate at him taking away his song. The melody in his heart felt more like chaos than beauty. 

He sat beside her at meals, gently coaxing her to eat while sharing worried glances with her parents. When her nightmares began he was there, tucking her shaking body against his to be an anchor. Murmured words, his fingers brushing over her hair stopped the screams, even when they echoed in his own dreams.

She was a ghost at the funeral - there but not really. Her eyes staring through everyone, gaze frozen on the picture of golden hair and green eyes. He held her elbow to keep her upright, feeling her tremble. The tribute of a city to honour a fallen hero - somewhere he knew she didn’t want to be.

Still she wouldn’t speak, but every night she waited until he crawled into her loft and pulled her close, her fingers clenching the fabric of his shirt so tightly he wondered if it would tear. Then she would fall asleep, fitful and restless. 

In the back of his mind, he wondered about Hawkmoth - about the ring and the earrings he’d taken with such a cost. Staring at the hollow shell of a girl named Marinette left him with more questions than he wanted to admit, afraid to remind her of anything, to send her spiraling down into the darkness again.

In hushed tones, he talked to Alya whenever she came to visit. There seemed no point of secret identities between them anymore. A cry for help on her blog yielded none and her attempts at patrols as Rena Rouge giving no answers. 

It took time - a long time - before there was some semblance of life in Marinette’s eyes again. Hope filled him the first time she called his name, needing him close. He wasn't the jealous type. He knew he was her second choice. She would always have a part of her heart that belonged to someone else. She would never look at him like she looked at Adrien. But he would take whatever she could give. 

At first, it was just needing him close. That was enough. 

Then, the sound of his name on her lips, even when it wasn’t anything more than a rough whisper. The return of a squeeze when he held her hand. The hint of a smile when he picked up his nearly forgotten guitar and plucked the out of tune strings. 

Soon she was sitting beside him on her chaise, eyes closed as she leaned against him, listening to the dissonant chords as he tried, oh he tried, to find the melody again. 

It was sitting in the moonlight on her small balcony, her body curled into his on the lounge chair for warmth. It was her eyes meeting his and seeing her alive again. It was her silent thanks for being there, for keeping her heart beating when she willed it to stop. 

He knew he had to ask her, even though she was fragile. Even though it scared him. 

So he held her tight as he spoke, his arms a shield. At first he just asked her about Chat - about Adrien, feeling her heart race as she struggled to breathe. It was a gurgle. Only a strangled sound against his chest, hot tears pooling underneath them. A soft kiss on her forehead was her reward for bravery. 

He tried again, listening to her take a steadying breath before she said a single phrase that nearly broke him. 

“My soulmate.” 

He understood why her heart had always been pulled in two directions. It wasn’t that Luka was her second choice. It was that Adrien had been her choice. She had belonged to Adrien - even before either of them had fully known why. 

Again and again, he asked her to talk about the boy behind the cat mask, letting her cry as she healed, as she remembered, as she lived. And then, when she could talk about him without the need to be held, without a steadying breath, without bracing herself for the pain….. He asked about her earrings. 

Clinging to him in desperation as she tried to share about Tikki, he could feel the pain of separation pulling her apart. But she spoke. 

At last, recruiting Alya and Nino to help, he asked her about Hawkmoth. He thought it was too much - her eyes growing distant, her body tense in his arms. But, she dropped her head only for a moment before shifting to face him. Placing her hand on his cheek, she let out a sad smile. 

“Gabriel Agreste.” 

Alya’s reaction wasn’t calm, bursting out of her seat with a nearly savage scream, visibly shaking with rage. Nino did nothing but let out a shaky breath. Marinette met Nino’s eyes. 

“Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth. Gabriel Agreste killed Adrien.” Her voice was cold, emotionless as she relived the battle - a rambling kind of story with pieces that were missing because they hadn’t been there. The trap had been set, drawing the heroes into his lair underneath Agreste Manor, butterflies attacking. It made sense now, she explained, the change in Chat’s behaviour, the jokester replaced with fierce and dangerous eyes. He had brought the fight to the rooftops while she’d gathered them all to help. They knew the rest from there - Adrien’s ring, her earrings brought together in a rush of power. But power has a price. Too high a price.

They were all silent for a moment as it all settled in. 

Alya swore loudly, gone in a flash, Nino frozen to his seat as he stared at Marinette. Silence passed between them before Nino nodded, following his girlfriend from the room. Alone, Marinette collapsed against Luka, begging to be taken to her room. 

She was tired, shaken. There was more that needed to be said, but for now, she needed him close. She needed his quiet strength and he was willing to give it. His fingers strummed against the metal of the string, aching from neglected calluses, trying to sing to her the only way he knew how. 

The days that followed were a blur, standing by her side as she was called to give accounts of what happened, of her time as Ladybug, of Adrien’s life as Chat Noir, of the discovery that the man her partner had called Father had actually been the terrorist Hawkmoth, of the traps that were laid and triggered, of losing. 

He could feel her rage when she saw Gabriel Agreste, her words vile and angry, her skin hot and her body barely controlled. Luka’s arms held her again, always held her, determined to save her, to help her. She quivered against him as all her emotions collapsed together. 

“Take me home,” were the only words she had - all she had to ask.

Time heals all wounds they say. So he waited, trying to find the melody of his heart and hers again. He stayed as she learned to be brave again, as she learned to be herself again, as she learned to breathe again, as she learned to smile again, as she found her art again. Her nightmares stopped. His guilt faded. 

And finally, when it felt like an eternity, he found the song. Clear and sincere like it once had been, the minor sound shifting to a major cadence, the melody echoing in his head then through his fingers. 

The vibration of guitar strings faded into the room when he opened his eyes, finding her standing in front of him with tears in her eyes. Pushing the guitar to the side, he grabbed her, pulling her close, worry in his heart. 

“Thank you, Luka.” Her words were soft. Raw. “Thank you for loving me when I couldn’t be loved.” A breathless pause as he ravenously searched her blue eyes. “I love you, too.” 

He might not have been her first choice, but she loved him - and that was all that mattered as his lips claimed hers.

**Author's Note:**

> [Find the artwork for this story here](https://lyramae-archer.tumblr.com/post/189701483974/to-my-secret-santa-giftee)


End file.
